Chapter Three

Angela

I check my reflection in the napkin dispenser and groan. I look like hell and feel like it, too. Getting no sleep before a breakfast shift is the worst. I tried to nap on my break, but the chairs in the back room are so uncomfortable. Giving up on rest, I tie my apron back on and check the clock. Four hours left and then I get to go home.

I’m busy taking someone’s order when Audrey starts her shift. We meet at the coffee pot.

“You look like shit.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks.”

“Late night, Al?”

“Very late.” I cover my mouth as a yawn escapes. My mind wouldn’t shut off last night after Danny left, and I stayed up painting my feelings instead of facing them. “I just want to crawl into bed and sleep for three days.”

Audrey’s eyes become slits as she studies me closer. “Something is different. Did you cut your bangs?”

I pour a cup of coffee and set it on my tray along with creamer and sugar packets. “Nope.”

“Try something new with your makeup?”

“No.”

I deliver the coffee to table four and return to the counter where Audrey is still looking me up and down.

“I don’t know what it is, but something is different.”

“If you say so.” I shrug. There’s an ache on my shoulder. As I run my fingers over the sore spot where Danny bit me, my eyes glaze over to memories of last night.

“Son of a bitch!” Audrey shouts. “You got laid!”

The entire diner goes quiet, every head turned our way.

“What? No!”

I hurry towards the back room, away from everyone’s eyes. Audrey stays quiet, but she’s right on my heels.

“You got some last night,” she says. “I can tell. You totally fed the kitty, didn’t you?”

“Shhhhh!” I whisper at her. I slap my hands over my face so that I don’t have to look at her all-knowing smirk.

“Come on, Al. I don’t have anyone else to live through vicariously. Give me details.”

Opening my locker, I pull out my ChapStick and reapply. It’s not necessary, but I’ve just got to keep busy or I’ll crack under this interrogation. Audrey is so good at getting secrets out of me, and I want to keep this to myself for now. For once, I want it to be mine alone just a little while longer.

“No details.”

“Angela Louise. I neeeeeeeed them. Please. Was he hot? I bet he was hot. Tall? Short? Fat? Skinny? How was the ass?” She stops, slaps a hand to her chest and gasps. “Was it someone we know?”

I shake my head and mime locking my lips and throwing away the key.

“I’ve got to get back out there,” I tell her.

“Give me something, you greedy hussy! It’s been a while. Did he have to knock the dust off?”

I spin to face her now, annoyed by the smug look on her face.

“What? No. There was no dust, cobwebs, or any other indicator of my vajayjay’s down time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on my tables.”

I push through the door and let it swing closed behind me. I can’t be mad at Audrey, because it has been a while. Danny and I hadn’t seen each other in a little over six months.

I become an expert at keeping myself busy and avoiding Audrey for the rest of my shift. Even with her miming death threats from across the diner, I keep quiet.

I’m wiping down the front counter when Wren Hart walks in. She certainly looks different than when she left Crowley three years ago—short hair dyed lavender and a nose piercing. I bet her daddy flipped out when he saw that. A few people notice her, whispering and nudging one another like she’s Crowley’s first celebrity. I roll my eyes and push down the bitterness and resentment that reappeared when she did.

Because I’m so lucky, Wren takes a seat at the counter. I can feel Audrey’s eyes on me, waiting for a reaction. I take a deep breath, walk over, and lay out a napkin and some silverware. I grab a glass of ice water and a menu and set them in front of her. Here she is, the girl that was the center of my jealous teenage heart for years, scanning a menu as if she didn’t just wreck me.

Back in high school, when I was deep into my infatuation with Logan Sawyer, he was deep in love with Wren Hart. She was his universe and I knew I’d never stand a chance against her. She was beautiful and wild—a perfect stereotype of the town preacher’s kid. I was envious of her and at the same time wished to be her.

My inner voice is so loud. It yells and points fingers and wants to know why she came back. Instead of yelling, “What the hell are you doing here?” I choose something less hostile. “I heard you were back.”

Wren glances at my nametag and searches my face. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you.”

I smile and hope she can see the intent behind it. “No, you wouldn’t. We only went to school together our entire lives. It’s okay. I imagine I’m fairly forgettable.”

“I’m really sorry. I’ve done a lot of things and met a lot of people in the past three years. There’s only so much room up here,” Wren says, tapping her temple. “I guess some stuff gets deleted to make room for new memories.”

I give her a doubtful look.

“Actually, you do look familiar. Didn’t you go by Angie in school?”

I nod. “Yep. That was me.”

“Well, I like Angela Louise. Has a nice down-home feel to it. Now that we’re reacquainted, can I get some coffee?”

“Sure thing.” After all, I’m on the clock. I fetch the coffee pot and pour her a cup, trying to keep the ridiculous hostility I’m feeling in check. I don’t accuse her of breaking Logan Sawyer, of turning him into the non-committal player he is now. I don’t tell her about the rumors, all the women he’s been with since her. I don’t mention that he’s different since she left and she doesn’t deserve to get him back. As I slide the cup across the counter, Audrey leans into my ear.

“He is so strange,” she says, nudging my ribs. “I can’t get him to try anything new.”

I look across the room to find Preston, the newest addition to our town, seated in his usual booth. He’s certainly nice to look at, but a bit too quirky for my tastes.

“I don’t know why you keep trying,” I respond before returning my attention to Wren. Her eyes are on Preston, and the look I find there tells me that she might not be back in Crowley for Logan after all. This ignites a glimmer of hope in me. Maybe all is not lost just because Wren returned, she surely doesn’t seem to be concerned with Logan Sawyer at the moment.

“I’d like the bacon cheeseburger with fries,” Wren says absently. “Thanks.”

I nod, write up her ticket, and give it to the kitchen. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I do a quick check on my tables and sneak off to the back to check it.

My heart leaps into my throat when I see that it’s from my mother. When did she learn to send a text? She’s asking me to stop by after work. I send a quick reply telling her I’ll be there and slide my phone back into my pocket. Adjusting my ponytail, I head back into the front room of the diner. As I’m refilling Mrs. Anthony’s coffee, the kitchen bell dings twice, alerting me that Wren’s food is ready.

I grab the plate but find her spot empty. Scanning the diner, I see Wren sitting with Preston.

“Well, well, well,” I whisper to myself, unable to believe what I’m seeing. No one has ever sat with him before. Leave it to Wren Hart to be the exception.

Audrey drops off his food and gives me a wild-eyed do-you-see-this look when we cross paths. I nod and slide Wren’s plate in front of her.

Still in disbelief, I stand there looking back and forth between the two before my brain kicks in. “Did you want something else to drink?” I ask.

“No, thanks.”

I throw a few napkins on the table and take off toward the counter, glancing one more time at the anomaly at table six. I join Audrey behind the counter, no longer worried about her interrogation. We watch the two, wordlessly gawking, knowing this means more than just friends having lunch.

Wren notices us and shouts across the diner. “Take a picture or something.”

Audrey and I scramble to look busy. She steps on my toes as I try to get around her.

When my replacement comes in, I dart to the back, pull my apron off, and grab my purse from my locker. I’m almost out the door before Audrey catches me.

“In a hurry?” she asks.

“Just going to check on my mom,” I say, giving her my best smile.

Audrey moves in front of the back door and crosses her arms. “No way. You can’t possibly expect me to ignore the fact that you got laid. I mean, you come in this morning, all doe-eyed and freshly boinked and think you can get away with no details?” She takes a seat at our small round table and pats the seat next to her. “Spill it.”

I blow my bangs from my eyes and sit down, knowing it’s useless to fight her. “Fine. I called Danny. He came over. The end.”

Audrey gives me the death glare. “That would be a broad summary. I’m old. I don’t have the need or patience for summaries. I want details.”

I rest my chin on my hands and turn my eyes toward the ceiling, knowing she’ll never stop until she gets what she wants. So I tell her. I tell her everything—every little detail from asking to Danny come over and even the guilt and remorse I felt when he left. It is the first time during our friendship that Audrey remains completely quiet and focused during a conversation.

“So you guys didn’t even have sex?”

“Everything but.”

“Wait,” she says, holding up a hand. “Everything b-u-t-t? Or everything b-u-t?”

I roll my eyes. “B-u-t, Audrey.”

She grins. “Well, damn. I’m sorry, Al. In your haste to forget Logan Sawyer, you failed to realize that Wren might not even be interested in rekindling that flame. From the looks of her and that Preston guy, I think you’ve still got a real chance here. Want me to ask Sue about it?”

I laugh and slap her knee. “Please leave Not-So-Psychic Sue out of it. I think I’ve got to figure this out on my own, you know?”

“Yeah.” She gets up and grabs her cigarettes from her bag, gesturing for me to join her outside. I hang my purse over my shoulder and follow her out into the alley. “I have to say, I’m proud of you, though. You knew what you wanted and you got it. Now only if that confidence could trickle over to that fine piece of deputy.”

“I thought I knew what I wanted, but it felt so wrong. Danny was just a distraction I don’t need right now. And I was a jerk for using him like that.”

Audrey sighs and shakes her head. “If I was your age again? Girl, I’d be riding all these boys like Seabiscuit, taking home trophies and shit.”

“Well, you and I are very different people. I want the fairytale. I want to be swept off my feet by a man who wants to know everything about me, who isn’t scared to deal with my mother, who sees the real me and wants all of it.”

She leans forward now, grabbing my shoulders and looking into my eyes without blinking. “If that’s the way you want it, then you’ve got one choice here. Put your big girl panties on and finally land Logan Sawyer. Be the girl who makes him stop and settle down. You’re worth it. You’ve just got to make him see that. You’ll never know if he’s your guy until you try.”

Logan’s name jabs at me and I try to ignore the nagging feeling of regret. I certainly don’t owe him any kind of allegiance. And who’s to say that Logan is the man that will give me all those things—as much as I want him to be.

“The guy barely knows I exist.”

“You may not be on his radar yet, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get you there. All we need is a plan. Hell, yesterday you had him eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“More like staring at my boobs,” I say, pulling myself from her grasp and waving the smoke from her cigarette out of my face.

“Potato, po-tah-toe. You’ve got young, perky boobs. Use them to bring him over to the dark side!”

“Did you just make a Star Wars reference? I’m so impressed right now. I think my nerd is wearing off on you.”

“Yep. Just about mentally prepared for those Lord of the Rings movies you’ve been threatening me with,” she says, miming a yawn and rolling her eyes.

“Don’t worry. Classes start back up on Monday and I’ll be too busy with school, work, and mom.”

“How is your mom these days?” Audrey asks.

I sigh and lean against the brick wall, fidgeting with my ponytail. It’s such a simple question, but the answer is not even one I know. Mom is different. Mom is a recluse. Mom is sometimes too much for me to handle. “Nothing has changed since Daddy died. She still refuses to leave the house.” I avoid Audrey’s pitying glance. “I’m heading there now.”

Audrey reaches over and pats my shoulder. “She’ll come around one day. I just know it. Tell her I said ‘hi.’ ”

“Will do,” I say, giving her a wave and making my way to my car in the back lot.

On the trip to Mom’s house, I try to prepare my exhausted brain for whatever drama she’s worked up about today.

While her not leaving the house is frustrating, I can almost understand. She’s mourning the loss of her soul mate. I’ve never seen two people who were more in sync, who were meant for each other, like my mom and dad. Growing up, their relationship was always an inspiration. I always thought, if I could find someone who feels about me the way my dad feels about my mom, I’d be the luckiest girl on earth. Even after eighteen years of marriage, the looks he gave her were full of unconditional love.

And then one day, he was gone. According to the official report, it was death by blunt-force trauma. He fell and hit his head on the combine. Though the sheriff said it was most likely an accident, he suspects that there was someone else present, so the case remains open. Even if that person wasn’t responsible, he should have been held and questioned. Only, no one knows who that second set of footprints in the dirt belongs to. No one but me.

As much as I loved my father—and still do—I hold a secret in my heart that has grown bigger and darker with time. At first I was a scared kid, confused and feeling so alone. And now, now I feel like it’s too late to confess what I know. It wouldn’t make any difference and it wouldn’t heal my mother. My dad is gone and part of me feels responsible. It is part of the burden I carry every day. That, and Momma.

My mom never recovered after my father’s death. I resented her for a while, putting so much responsibility on me, but now I’ve accepted that it is my daughterly duty. I check on her often. I make sure she has everything she needs, but I live my life separately, in a small house three miles down the road.

In a way, I guess I never recovered, either. How does someone recover from losing their best friend in the world? The whole situation made me want to swear off guys forever, and as a heartbroken seventeen-year-old, that sounded doable. For a while, I was cold and distant from everyone. I never wanted anyone to mistake kindness for something more, so I kept to myself at school, got a job at the diner to gain some independence, and tried to heal.

I met Danny my first semester in college and he was so…nice. Our relationship began as a friendship, with him working hard to break down the walls I’d built around myself. Once I was comfortable with Danny and trusted him, things naturally progressed. But through all this trauma, this grief, and even my relationship, Logan Sawyer was always present. He’s been the center of my universe since I was eight years old and nothing could change that.

I open the door and knock at the same time. “Momma?”

“In the kitchen.”

There are stacks of newspapers lining the wall of the dining room. I don’t think she’s thrown one out in years. Two bags of garbage wait for me near the front door. She’s at the stove, stirring a pot.

I take a deep breath and grin at the familiar scent of my mother’s cooking. “Smells delicious.” I sit at the table and flip through the mail sitting there. Nothing for me this time.

“Chicken stew.”

“Mmmm. Daddy’s favorite,” I say, feeling sadness burn into my chest. She hums in agreement and returns her attention to cooking. “Reverend Hart asked about you last Sunday. Said he’d love to see you at a service. I could pick you up Sunday morning, if you want to go with me?”

She just shakes her head and continues stirring. “I wouldn’t have a thing to wear.”

This is where we pretend she’d be willing to go out, but she’ll come up with a million excuses as to why she can’t. It’s a game I usually play along with, but I don’t have the strength today.

“I’m just on my way home, Momma. I’m beat. Did you need something while I’m here?”

She pulls a grocery list off of the fridge. It’s held in place by a lobster magnet from our last family vacation together. We drove all the way to Maine that summer.

“I don’t want that roast that’s been pre-packaged and sitting in the meat cooler for God knows how long, Angela. Make sure you ask Henry for the fresh cut in the back.”

“Henry retired last year, Mom. Chuck Stanley runs the meat department now.”

Her face squishes up before she waves a hand and sighs. “That boy that ran over our mailbox?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s not a boy anymore, since that happened like a decade ago.”

“Well, ask him about the roast, then.”

“Okay. I will.” I stand and wrap my arms around her shoulders, squeezing hard. “I love you. I’ll be back Sunday with your groceries. Call if you need anything before then.”

“I love you, too, Angela. See you Sunday.”

I grab the garbage on my way out and put it at the curb as she waves from the window. Logan’s cruiser turns the corner, approaching slowly and I immediately turn my back to the street. My mind races with options. Do I turn and wave, giving him my best smile? Do I motion for him to stop so I can strike up another casual conversation? What would Audrey do? That kind of thinking could get me arrested. So I abandon all thoughts and force myself to face him and just play it by ear. The problem is, by the time I spin around his car is already past me and I’ve missed my opportunity.

The neighbor kid zips by on his bike. His eyes linger too long on my mom’s house and he almost runs into a parked car. She’s kind of the town weirdo now—the mysterious lady who never steps outside. Maybe she’s a vampire. Maybe she’s allergic to sunlight. Maybe she’s afraid of germs. So many rumors, so many questions. And even I don’t have an answer for them.